


Learning Curve

by quake_quiver



Series: Ten Trails Challenge: Trail 6 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Appendicitis, Dean's a good big brother, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Jess and Cas are good partners, M/M, Sam Winchester Whump, Sam is stubborn but they love him, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27156604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quake_quiver/pseuds/quake_quiver
Summary: It starts with a dull pain in Sam’s right side that comes and goes.ORSam Winchester doesn't know how to let anyone other than Dean take care of him. He fears that he's a burden and fears being seen at his weakest. Luckily, at his worst, Cas and Jess love him just the same and help him through.
Relationships: Castiel/Jessica Moore, Castiel/Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Castiel/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Series: Ten Trails Challenge: Trail 6 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955320
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	Learning Curve

**Author's Note:**

> This was for the prompt "appendicitis" from the 11th. It got away from me, but I really like how it turned out, especially for my first shot at Sam/Cas/Jess. Enjoy!

It starts with a dull pain in Sam’s right side that comes and goes, on and off, for a day or so. He chalks it up to a strained muscle, or just one of those one-off pains that happen sometimes. The next day, it’s still there, but it’s nowhere near bad enough to stop Sam from going about his day, and he goes to classes and clocks into his shift in the library.

By that time, it’s mid afternoon and Sam has mostly forgotten about the discomfort. He’s behind the desk in the library, researching for a midterm paper and keeping an eye out for any people coming to the library, when the dull ache sharpens into a cramp.

Sam winces, dropping a hand to it and discreetly rubbing at the spot. The sharp pain persists for a few moments, but then it fades. Sam tries to think about his routine the past few days, but the most likely culprit is still that he must have strained a muscle. Maybe he overdid it on his last run with Cas.

Then a freshman approaches the service desk, looking unsure, and Sam falls back into paying attention to work and school. By the time his shift ends and he’s meeting Jess and Cas for dinner, he’s completely forgotten about it all over again.

Cas and Jess are happy to see him. Jess takes his hand and leans into his side, and Cas slips an arm around his waist and presses a kiss to his temple.

“How was your day?” Cas asks, voice low and warm. Sam basks in it.

“Good,” Sam says, squeezing Jess’s hand and smiling at Cas. “Boring. How was yours? How was lab?”

Cas’s face lights up in a grin as they walk toward the dining hall, Sam in the middle of the people he loves most. “Lab went very well. I finally got to meet the mice today.”

Sam and Jess both break into beaming smiles. Jess halts them in the middle of the sidewalk so she can lean around Sam to give Cas a short kiss, and Sam gives him one right after.

Castiel has been working with one of the professors on lab research for the past two years. He’d been promised last year that when he was experienced enough, he would get to start helping with lab work on a more involved project involving lab mice. Sam and Jess are constantly impressed; microbiology research sounds difficult and intriguing.

Cas tells them more about his time in lab as they walk to the dining hall. Sam gets swept up in his boyfriend and his girlfriend, and it isn’t until they’re back in their apartment, all tangled up on the couch and watching Netflix on their tiny TV that Sam’s reminded that something’s off.

Sam’s laying against Jess’s chest. Cas is laying behind the both of them, his legs tangled with Sam’s and his arm pillowing Jess’s head. They’re watching Fullmetal Alchemist when a persistent cramp spreads through Sam’s abdomen. Sam frowns slightly and attempts to ignore it, but the cramp doesn’t go away and the sharp throbbing of it forces him to shift, trying to dispel it.

Cas and Jess don’t seem to realize anything is wrong, which Sam is grateful for. Growing up, he only ever had his older brother to look after him; letting anyone other than Dean see him ill, injured, or less than 100% is difficult. He’s been with Jess for nearly three years, and they’ve been with Cas for almost two. In all that time, Sam’s made sure to hole up in his dorm, before they lived together, or in the spare room, now that they _do_ live together, any time that he’s been sick.

Sam tries to refocus his attention to the show, Cas’s cold feet against his calves and Jess’s fingers idly messing with his hair, but the pain in his gut is deeply distracting. It’s settled a bit from a sharp cramp to more of a consistent dull ache. It’s worse than it was when Sam noticed it yesterday, and worse than it was this morning, though, and that does worry him a little.

Cas makes a content sound and shifts a bit, and his arm drops over Sam’s waist. The pressure on Sam’s tender abdomen makes him tense slightly, and he feels Cas’s eyes on him.

“Sam,” Cas murmurs, and Sam reluctantly turns to look at him. “Are you alright?”

That catches Jess’s attention, and Sam feels uncomfortable with the sudden scrutiny. Cas is frowning at him, and Jess’s face is creased in concern.

“You’re kinda pale, baby,” she says, and her fingers slip from his hair to his forehead.

“And you’re unusually tense,” Cas supplies. “You ate less than normal at dinner, too.”

Sam blushes, feeling like one of Cas’s new lab mice. It’s true that he didn’t eat much—he just wasn’t that hungry tonight.

“I’m fine,” he says quietly. “Just an off night or something.”

Cas and Jess don’t look completely convinced, but they don’t push it any further.

Sam sighs and presses his face a little more against Jess’s chest. He ignores the ache in his stomach through sheer force of will and returns to paying attention to the Elrics, at least until he falls asleep.

* * *

Sam wakes a bit sometime later, feeling muzzy and still mostly asleep. He can just make out Cas and Jess whispering over his head, and he wakes a little more when there’s some movement. He blinks his eyes open to see Cas getting off the couch, padding into the bathroom in his sweatpants.

Sam’s still laying on Jess. He lets his eyes fall shut again, more than happy to fall back to sleep, and only barely aware of the still-present ache in his gut. He can hear Cas’s footsteps as he comes back into the room, and then Cas’s cool hand lands on his forehead, and Sam’s eyes snap back open. Cas and Jess are looking at each other.

“He does feel warm,” Cas whispers, and Sam frowns. The movement of his face causes Cas to look down. “Hey, Sam.”

“Hi,” Sam mumbles. “What’s going on?”

“It feels like you might have a fever,” Cas says quietly. “Are you feeling okay?”

Sam sighs. He doesn’t really want to have this conversation again. “Fine,” he says a touch shortly. “You guys know I run hot.”

“We do,” Jess agrees. “But you feel even warmer than that.”

“I’m fine,” Sam repeats. “It’s nothing.”

Cas and Jess exchange a look over his head. Sam suppresses the urge to huff.

After a moment, Cas meets Sam’s eyes again and bites his lip. He’s fidgeting with the thermometer in his hands. “I’m not sure, Sam. You don’t look well.”

Feeling cornered, and all too aware of the fact that his lovers aren’t going to let him go lick his wounds in peace, Sam sighs.

“What do you want me to do? If I eat and drink something and go to bed, will you leave it alone for the night?”

Jess and Cas don’t look pleased with the short, aggravated tone in his voice, but Sam is more awake now, able to take stock of how he’s really feeling, and he’s exhausted, achy, and annoyed by the ever-present pain in his gut. He doesn’t have the patience or the wherewithal to let himself fall apart in front of the two people that mean the most to him.

“We’re just trying to look out for you,” Jess says, and there’s no real heat in her voice, but Sam can feel the firmness behind it. “We care about you, Sam, we just want to help you feel better.”

“I feel _fine_ ,” Sam lies, standing up from the couch and stalking to their fridge. Getting up and walking really doesn’t help the pain, but Sam willfully ignores it. He pulls a water bottle out of the fridge and a pack of crackers out of their cabinet and turns around, dramatically brandishing them toward Cas and Jess.

Sam knows he’s being unfair. He knows he’s being an asshole. But the dull ache is starting to get worse, and Sam doesn’t even want to touch the crackers, let alone eat them.

But Cas is looking at him intently, and Jess is frowning at him, her arms crossed, so Sam tears the package open and starts eating them. They taste like sawdust in his mouth, and what was nothing more than no appetite earlier is starting to feel more like nausea.

Sam eats the crackers anyway, and drinks the water, all the while ignoring Cas and Jess’s concerned eyes on him. He’s nothing if not stubborn, and even though part of him wants to let them look after him, wants to give in and drape himself across their laps and bemoan this stupid stomachache, he can’t. He can’t be a burden. He can take care of himself.

“Sam,” Cas tries at one point. “You really don’t look okay.”

“I’m fine,” Sam repeats for what feels like the hundredth time. He closes the packet, rolling it up to preserve the remaining crackers, and shoves it back into the cabinet. His stomach is less than pleased with him, but under Cas and Jess’s scrutiny, he drains the rest of the water bottle.

He drops the empty bottle into their trash, then tries to make a split-second decision on where he’s sleeping. If he sleeps in their room, with Cas and Jess, he runs the risk of not being able to hide anything, but if he sleeps in the spare room, Cas and Jess will definitely know something’s up. Although they *have* all used the spare room on occasion if they’ve been irritated with each other…

When Sam glances at them, Cas and Jess both look as though they’re waiting for him to fall apart at any moment. It sends a spike of agitation through Sam’s chest.

“You know, I’m not a kid,” he snaps, crossing his arms and glaring at his partners. “I said that I was fine. You could make the effort to believe me. I can take care of myself, I’m not with you to be coddled.”

Cas and Jess blink at his little diatribe, and then both their faces drop with hurt and anger, but Sam can still see the crystalline worry in both their eyes.

“Goodnight,” Sam says shortly, before either of them can even respond to what he said. He doesn’t look at them as he crosses the room, heads into the spare bedroom, and slams the door behind him.

As soon as the door’s shut, Sam wilts. He gingerly lays down on the bed, fishes his phone out of his pocket, and opens his text messages.

It’s midnight, but Dean should still be awake.

> _Hey…_

Dean’s reply comes through immediately.

> _Dude, isn’t it a school night? Why are you still up?_

Sam rolls his eyes, wincing absently as he types.

> _Isn’t it a work night? Why are *you* still up?_

> _Yeah, yeah, alright, you got me. Seriously. What’s up_

Sam chews at his bottom lip.

> _I was just an ass to Cas and Jess and now I feel bad…_

Sam can practically see Dean rolling his eyes.

> _So go apologize. Cmon, Sammy, even you know to just apologize._

> _I said I was going to bed. They probably think I’m asleep._

> _So apologize when they come to bed with you._

Sam shakes his head, still chewing at his bottom lip. His stomach twists, and Sam’s phone goes forgotten for a moment as he breathes very carefully through his nose. The nausea fades a bit after a moment, but Sam’s hands are shaking as he types.

> _I’m in the spare room._

> _Uh oh…you just being a dick or you sick?_

Sam’s half-tempted to throw his phone across the room. He isn’t here to be fussed over some more.

> _Does it matter? I’m trying to figure out whether I’ll be asked to pack my bags in the morning._

> _Dude, how bad did you fuck up?_

Sam sighs. He’s aware that he’s probably overreacting, but he’s never really snapped at Cas and Jess like that.

> _Bad. Kinda lost it and snapped a bunch of things I shouldn’t have._

> _Just apologize. I’m sure you’ll figure it out. They love you._

That message just makes guilt sink into Sam’s stomach, making it churn even more.

> _Yeah…I’m tired. I’m gonna go to sleep._

> _Ok. Call or text me if you need anything._

> _Always do. Night._

Sam drops his phone onto the nightstand before he even sees Dean’s response and sits up. He drops his head into his hands and lets one leg bounce, back to taking measured breaths through his nose.

Sam can’t throw up. Not while Cas and Jess are awake and still out in their living room. He doesn’t even want to imagine how badly they would try to get him to let them take care of him.

But god, he’s so nauseous he can barely think. The dull ache is starting to spike into sharp cramps again, and when Sam shifts a little, the pain intensifies even more.

Sam swallows a gag. His head is spinning; he’s never felt abdominal pain like this before. It feels like someone’s carving him up with knives.

Sam doesn’t know how long he sits on the edge of the bed like that, shaking, dizzy from the pain and constantly feeling like he’s a second away from losing it on the carpet. But eventually, the pain recedes enough so that he can breathe, and the nausea fades soon after. Sam takes a few deep breaths, still feeling queasy and in pain, but he can at least manage to lay down, curling up on his side and wrapping his arms around his abdomen.

He doesn’t even change his clothes or get under the blankets. He doesn’t have the energy, and somehow he falls asleep like that.

* * *

Sam wakes suddenly. He’s freezing, shivering, and he can’t help gasping at the blinding pain in his gut. For a second, he’s confused as to why Cas or Jess don’t react, before he cracks his eyes open and recalls he’s in the spare room.

He didn’t even turn the light off before he passed out. God, Sam feels _awful_. The pain low in his belly, more to his right side, now, is so sharp and so intense that Sam feels like he can’t even breathe.

His stomach rolls. Sam stumbles to his feet, nearly crying out at how the movement makes the pain spike even higher, and staggers out of the room and down the hall to their bathroom.

Sam has a high pain threshold, but this is too much even for him. Sam wants to cry, lay down, yell, _something_ to distract himself from the pain or make it go away, but all he can really do is collapse to his knees in front of the toilet. He lifts the lid and the seat, throwing an arm across the bowl and resting his forehead on it.

Sam screws his eyes shut and presses his free hand to his right side, where the pain feels the worst. The pressure somehow makes the pain even worse than it already is and actually makes Sam moan, swallowing thickly against the godawful nausea climbing his throat.

Sam’s never felt this bad in his life, not even that one time Dean undercooked the chicken and accidentally gave them both food poisoning.

The thought makes him ache for his brother. Dean would know what to do.

Sam slowly pulls his hand away from his side, nearly groaning again at the way the pain worsens for a moment at the release. His abdomen feels bloated, and Sam wonders just how bad of a bug he managed to catch when his stomach lurches and he retches.

By the third heave, Sam grimacing at the taste in his mouth and nearly sobbing at the pain in his side, there are sleepy footsteps and someone enters the bathroom.

Sam can’t turn his head to look, but when someone crouches behind him and a large hand rests on the back of his neck, he knows it’s Cas.

Sam tries to say something, but it gets drowned out in another heave.

“Shhh,” Cas murmurs, his hand sliding down to rub circles into Sam’s back. “Easy, bee. Just breathe.”

Sam nearly sobs at the pet name. He nearly sobs anyway, in so much pain he’s starting to wish he’d just pass out, but Cas’s steady reassurances and his slow circles into Sam’s sweat-soaked t-shirt are grounding. Sam’s suddenly very grateful for his boyfriend.

“Cas,” he sobs when he hits a reprieve. “Jess…”

“Jess is getting you water and setting up our room,” Cas says quietly. “I’m here. You’re alright.”

Sam shakes his head. He still feels close to hurling some more, but he takes the risk of looking up at Cas, tears streaming down his face. “It _hurts_.”

Cas’s eyebrows lift in alarm. They all know how much pain Sam can—and will—handle without any complaint. “Hurts? Where?”

Sam gestures miserably to his right side. His breath catches on a sob, and he moans, not sure how much more pain he can take.

Cas is shifting behind him. Sam drops his face back onto his arm, gagging helplessly, and jumps when he feels Cas’s cold fingers pressing into his abdomen.

Sam bucks. Cas’s touch is making everything worse.

“How bad?” Cas asks, gently pulling away from Sam’s sore abdomen. “Tell me on your fingers, one to ten.”

Sam heaves again, seriously wishing he’d just black out already, and emphatically lifts ten fingers, his hands trembling.

Cas calls for Jess, and then Sam hears her footsteps and she’s there, in the doorway, her voice another point of focus that Sam is grateful for.

“Sam,” Cas says, brushing his free hand back through Sam’s sweaty hair. “I think we should go to the hospital once you’re okay to move.”

Sam nods. He has no arguments against that. The hospital has pain meds. The hospital can make it go away.

Jess joins them for a moment, brushing her fingers through Sam’s hair and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, before she’s bustling around the room and then out. Sam dimly hears Cas say to start his car.

It’s while Sam is dry heaving that he really feels like he’s going to pass out. The full-bodied retches are spiking the pain even higher, and black spots pop in Sam’s vision.

Cas is still behind him. He hasn’t stopped talking to Sam, rubbing his back and holding his bangs back and trying so hard to make this less awful. It makes Sam feel overwhelmingly guilty for being so surly earlier.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs when the dry heaving dies down. “Cas, I’m sorry.”

“Shhh, Sam,” Cas murmurs, handing Sam a damp washcloth and then taking it back when Sam’s hands shake too hard to hold onto it. “You don’t need to apologize, certainly not right now.”

“What I said,” Sam hiccups, just as Jess comes back into the room. “‘M so sorry.”

“None of that right now, Sam,” Jess says, holding a clean shirt. “We have time to talk later. Let’s just get you feeling better, yeah?”

Sam just closes his eyes. Cas is cleaning his face with the washcloth and the coolness of it feels good. Sam’s too tired to argue, even though there’s a stack of frantic apologies building under his tongue, so he just lets Cas and Jess clean him up, pulling off his sweaty shirt and pulling the clean one over his head.

Jess leaves the bathroom ahead of them, keys in hand, and Sam hears their door open, although he doesn’t hear it shut.

“Can you walk?” Cas asks.

The worst part about that question is Sam doesn’t know. This pain is utterly debilitating; he’s not sure he can stand up, let alone walk. He shrugs in Cas’s direction, tears still trailing down his cheeks, feeling every bit like the burden he tries so hard not to be.

Sam wants Cas to yell at him or something. To tell him to suck it up and deal, like he’d hear from his father. Then Sam could get it together and somehow drag himself to the car.

Cas doesn’t. He just slips an arm under Sam’s knees, and the other under his shoulders, and lifts him off the floor.

Sam groans at the change in position, and then grips Cas’s shoulder weakly and hates himself for it. “Sorry,” he slurs. “Sorry. ‘M a burden.”  
“You are not a burden,” Cas says patiently, his chest rumbling against Sam. “You’re just ill.”

Sam doesn’t know that he agrees, but he can’t really articulate an argument right now. The motion of being carried is making him lightheaded, so he shuts his eyes and tries to focus on something else as Cas leaves their apartment and brings him outside.

“Front or back, Sam?” Cas asks as they cross the parking lot.

Sam cracks his eyes open. Jess is standing anxiously in front of Cas’s car, his keys bouncing in her hand.

“Back,” he whispers.

Cas nods, and when they reach his car he nods to Jess to open the back door. Sam thinks Cas is going to put him down and have him get in on his own, but like Sam’s a child, Cas just deposits him onto the seat.

Cas is as gentle as he can be about it, but the movement still makes Sam groan. Jess is standing just outside the door, and Sam reaches for her.

Cas slides into the driver’s seat as Jess climbs into the back with Sam. He’s panting, curled up on the seat like it’ll alleviate the pain somehow.

Jess’s hand lands in his hair. Sam uses energy he doesn’t really have to lift his head into her lap, pressing it into her thigh.

“It’s okay, Sam,” Jess says, but her voice wavers. “You’re okay.”

Sam groans. He’s suddenly aware that he could be dying, and reaches for Jess’s hand. She takes it, and he squeezes as tight as he can.

“You’re okay,” Jess repeats. “We’ll be at the hospital soon.”

It’s only a ten-minute drive to the nearest emergency room, but Sam’s throwing up again five minutes in, Jess supporting him over the bucket he hadn’t noticed was in the footwell. Every heave sends a shockwave of pain through his abdomen, and with every passing minute, Sam’s more and more sure that whatever this is is going to kill him.

“I love—I,” Sam chokes, needing to say it while he still can. “I love you both. And tell—tell Dean that I—“

“Sam,” Cas says, voice a little louder so Sam can hear him over the ongoing retching. “Bee, you aren’t dying.”

Sam isn’t so sure that Cas is right, but he’s not exactly in a spot for arguing.

When they pull into the parking lot, Cas doesn’t even bother looking for a space. Sam feels the car sway into place next to the sidewalk, and then Jess is helping him sit up and Cas is swinging the door open.

He reaches to pick Sam up again, but Sam shakes his head. He knows, somewhere in the logical side of his brain, that it’s stupid to refuse Cas’s help just because he feels like it’ll be embarrassing, but he still doesn’t want to be that damsel of distress who must be carried into the emergency room.

Cas sighs, probably guessing Sam’s thoughts, but he doesn’t argue. Sam’s suddenly sandwiched between his partners, one arm over Cas’s shoulders and one arm over Jess’s.

They each have an arm wrapped around Sam, and Cas has one hand pressed to Sam’s chest to keep him upright as they make their way to the entrance.

Sam blinks, and he’s dimly surprised to feel tears slipping down his cheeks. The pain is so excruciating that things have started to go hazy. Sam wonders if that means he gets the relief of passing out soon.

When they enter, the emergency room is a lot emptier than Sam was expecting. Through the haze, he counts only a few other patients waiting to be seen.

Cas and Jess drag him over to the reception desk. The nurse behind it looks up, and Sam detachedly watches her eyes widen at the sight of him, but then she’s still asking them questions. It feels like Sam has to stand there for an eon while Cas and Jess answer for him to the best of their ability.

Finally, they turn away and Sam is guided toward a chair. His head swims, his knees are weak from the level of pain he’s in, and they’re in the middle of the room when he stumbles, nearly falling out of Cas and Jess’s grips, and vomits onto the linoleum.

Then he really _does_ fall out of his lovers’ grasps, kaleidoscope spots blooming in his vision, and blacks out.

* * *

Sam comes around slowly. His head feels light and too heavy at the same time, and he’s pretty sure someone stuffed a bunch of cotton into his mouth while he was out.

His hand is wrapped around something. Sam gives it a weak, experimental squeeze, and is startled when it squeezes back.

“Sam?” Someone says. “Are you awake, baby?”

Sam hums. He knows that voice. Slowly, he peels one eye open, and then the other, and blinks a few times to clear his vision.

Jess is the one who was talking to him. She’s holding his hand, sitting in a chair next to his bed, and Sam frowns. He doesn’t remember them owning a chair like that. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t remember going to bed last night.

Jess squeezes his hand again. Her other hand comes up and starts sweeping through his hair, and Sam practically melts into the touch.

“Wha’ happened?” Sam murmurs, his voice rough.

“You had surgery,” Jess says slowly. “They took out your appendix.”

Sam opens his eyes again, even though he doesn’t remember when he closed them, and frowns at her. “Don’t I need that?”

Jess is clearly trying to hold back a smile. And maybe some tears. Sam’s still too out of it to really know what to feel about that.

“It was making you sick,” she explains. “You’ll be just fine without it.”

Okay, Sam’s had enough of trying to follow conversation. He tugs at Jess’s hand. “Come sleep.”

Jess gives a tiny, breathy laugh, but shakes her head. “Can’t cuddle you right now, Sam. You just had surgery.”

Sam makes a face. “Can Cas cuddle?”

“Cas and Dean are getting coffee.”

Oh. Sam supposes that’s fine. Wait….

“Dean??”

“Yes,” Jess says calmly, failing at holding back her smile. “Dean’s here.”

Sam marvels at her, but his awestruck expression is cut with a yawn.

Jess laughs. “Go back to sleep, Sam. We’ll all be here when you wake up.”

Sam hums, agreeing with her, and then he’s out.

* * *

The next time he wakes up, Sam’s much more coherent. His mouth still feels cottony, but he’s able to recall that he’s in the hospital and recognizes the hand wrapped in his own as Cas’s.

He gives it a squeeze as he opens his eyes.

Cas is already looking at him, smiling softly. “Hi, bee.”

Sam clears his throat. “Hi.”

“How are you feeling?” Cas asks, glancing at Jess. Sam follows his line of sight to see Jess sitting on the end of his bed, book forgotten in her lap as she looks at Sam.

“Okay,” Sam says hoarsely. “Tired. My mouth’s all dry.”

Jess sets her book down and gets up. “We’ll give you another minute to wake up, but you want some ice chips? The nurses said you could have some if you wanted them when you woke up.”

Sam nods. Ice chips sound perfect.

Cas’s thumb is stroking back and forth over Sam’s knuckles. “Are you in any pain, Sam?”

Sam considers. “A little. My side’s sore.”

Cas frowns a little, obviously having hoped that Sam wasn’t hurting. He leans forward and presses a kiss to Sam’s forehead.

They’re all quiet for a moment, the only sound the ice crunching as Jess pours it into a cup.

Sam’s mind wanders. “Did I really have surgery?”

Cas and Jess both nod at him.

“You had appendicitis,” Cas says. “After you…blacked out, they diagnosed you and took you in for emergency surgery.”

Sam swallows. “And I’m…it went okay?”

“Without a hitch,” Jess says. “You’ll be out of commission for a while while your body heals, but they all tell us you’ll be just like new again. Ice?”

Sam nods. “Yes, please.”

Jess perches on the side of his bed, holding a cup of ice chips. Sam reaches for the spoon, but when his hands shake too hard, Jess wraps a hand around his wrist and holds him steady.

It’s then, with Cas holding tight to one of Sam’s hands and Jess holding the other to help him eat ice chips, that Dean enters the room.

“Dude,” he says, taking in the sight. “You got the life.”

“Dean!” Sam yelps. He’d forgotten that Jess had mentioned him earlier.

Dean grins crookedly at him. “Heya, Sammy. You behave for them while I was gone?”

Sam rolls his eyes, swallowing his retort in favor of more ice.

Dean makes his way around the room, handing Cas a fresh coffee and setting tea on the table for Jess. He sits on the end of the bed, next to Jess’s abandoned book, and tilts his head at Sam.

“Dude. You scared the shit outta these two.”

“Dean…” Jess says, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I’m just saying,” Dean responds, holding up his hands. “They really love ya, kid.”

Sam smiles. He swallows his mouthful of ice. “I know. I love them too.”

“Do you?” Dean says, and Sam can tell by the glint in his eyes that he’s about to stir up some more trouble. “Then how about next time you tell them something’s wrong _before_ you bite their heads off?”

Sam shoots him a bitchface, and Dean laughs. Cas and Jess shake their heads, both grinning.

“In all seriousness,” Dean says after a moment, tone much more sober. “How you holding up? You in pain at all?”

“My side’s sore,” Sam repeats. “But apparently I had surgery, so I’m not surprised. I’m okay.”

Dean pats Sam’s ankle. “Good. Bet your nurses can give you more meds when they come back in a bit, too.”

Sam nods.

It’s quiet for a moment. Cas, Jess, and Dean all look tired and stressed, even though they’re all obviously trying to hide it. Sam feels a rush of warmth that they all care about him so much, and a rush of guilt for making them all so worried.

Cas, who’s watching him closely, sees the emotions flicker across his face and squeezes his hand a little tighter. “Hey. We all love you and just want to be here for you.”

“No, I know,” Sam says. “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t let you help sooner.”

Jess leans in and kisses him softly, only for a moment. The warm feeling in Sam spreads even further.

“It’s okay,” Jess says when she pulls away. “We’re all just glad it worked out.”

Sam offers them a tiny smile. “Me too.”

Come nighttime, Jess, Cas, and Dean refuse to leave according to visiting hours. Sam’s doctor eventually gives in and agrees to let them stay.

Dean sleeps in one of the comfortable chairs in the corner of Sam’s room. Jess carefully lays down on Sam’s uninjured side, letting him rest his head on her chest, and Cas falls asleep in one of the chairs at Sam’s bedside, never letting go of his hand.

Sam’s the last one to fall asleep. Before he does, he looks around at his sleeping loved ones and thinks that there’s nobody he’d rather have to help him through times like this, even if he’s difficult about it. He squeezes Cas’s hand, presses a light kiss to Jess’s collarbone, and sends a sleepy smile in Dean’s direction, and then he drifts off to sleep.


End file.
